


The Theater Bug

by SweetSamOfMine (AudreeJo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10.05, 200th episode, Gen, Musicals, Theater - Freeform, musical theater, sam and theater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 04:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2608178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreeJo/pseuds/SweetSamOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is surprised when all his theater feelings return when he and Dean wind up working a case on the set of a High School musical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Theater Bug

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liron_aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liron_aria/gifts).



> Wrote this for this prompt I received in my Tumblr askbox: "can you write a thing about Sam geeking out over theatre and struggling to do it internally because he know Dean'll just shut him down, but he's just sO EXCITED AND NOSTALGIC that he's practically giddy inside and has secret grins and cheers the girls on when Dean's not around you are a fluff fairy you could do it so much better than me pls"

"I mean, I’ve gotta say, it’s kind of charming!" said Sam. A delighted grin tugged at the sides of his mouth as he looked around the school auditorium full of set pieces, lighting effects, and characters in costume. He was genuinely impressed with these high school girls, but beyond that the hustle and bustle of techies and actors clamoring to get everything just right sent a wave of nostalgia after Sam. "The production value, and the —" he went on until he saw the look on Dean’s face, one brow cocked, eyes wide with confused judgment. " _Er_ , no… No,” Sam stuttered. “I’m gonna check for EMF. You —you look for cursed objects.” And with a nod at his brother, Sam strode away. 

He had stopped himself just in time. It had been so long since Sam was near a stage, watching a cast put the finishing touches on a production, that he forgot how much he loved it. The high of the energy in the room made him forget, too, that his interest in theater wasn’t something he usually shared with Dean.

Usually… or like,  _ever_.

His excitement really did swell up in him like water and overflowed right out of his mouth before he could even catch himself. Dean had looked surprised, but really Sam was just as surprised at his reaction to all of this.

The truth was Sam  _loved_  the theater. Even musicals. Sometimes  _especially_ musicals. There was really something profound and kind of beautiful to him about the stage, how every factor, every part of the production —actors, techies, orchestra, and director— had to work together for it to really succeed. The fact that you have to be able to be that in sync performance after performance, thinking on your feet, being able to improvise when things don’t go exactly right made theater and hunting seem not so different to Sam.

Another grin found a way to pry Sam’s mouth open at this thought as he made his way up to the booth. The stage manager, Maeve, was up there double checking the soundboard and he needed to interview her as well as check for electromagnetic forces. But when he entered the room and saw the glistening controls, the stage illuminated through the glass panels, shadows cast across the buttons from the small lamps lit up for the techies to see their cues, he kind of lost his focus. 

Sam felt a flutter start to bubble in his stomach as his heart rate rose. He tried not to look too enthused as he looked around — he was supposed to be and FBI agent, after all— but he couldn’t help it! The soundboard and the CD deck made him so excited that he found himself drowning in sentimentality all over again. “You  _know_ ,” he started with a sigh, leaning back in the swivel chair next to the soundboard, that wistful smile smeared across his face, “back when I did tech, we had  _two_  CD decks.”

He must have sounded like such an old man to this young teen. Had he actually just started a  _when-I-was-your-age_  story? What had gotten into him?

Maeve blinked at him. “I’m sorry, I have to go sign for a delivery,” she said. Then she rose to go with a warning, “Please don’t touch anything.” And she was gone, leaving the buzzing room with all the controls alone with Sam Winchester in the throes of a nostalgic theatrical meltdown.

Sam swiveled back around to face the buttons. He was a grown-ass man. He could overcome the temptation to mess with the controls. He totally could. And he would. Except… would it be that big of a deal to see if he still remembered how to manage tech? Everything was so much cooler than he remembered, the technology so updated and improved. It looked  _so cool_  and he was pretty sure he would have been even better at working in the booth had they had stuff like  _this_  when he was in school.

Sam cracked his knuckles.

The spotlights blinked and soared across the stage under Sam’s direction. The intensity of the colors grew vibrant, then dulled. Glares glowed bright and burning, then eased into soft dim shades. It was sunset, then it was noon, then it was midnight just at the push of a button or two.

Sam’s smile widened and widened.

When Sam finally snapped out of his momentary lapse, he realized the Sam and Dean from the show were on stage, running lines. They were both staring at the stranger in the booth like he was possibly from another planet. Sam scrambled to punch the microphone button. 

He cleared his throat. “Sorry!” he said with a feeble wave through the window. The girls raised their eyebrows before smirking and going back into their scene. Sam rolled away from the table with a wrinkle in his forehead.

 _That was embarrassing,_ he thought.

His grin returned and he nodded to himself. 

_Worth it._


End file.
